“It’s never enough, is it? Time. We always think we have so much of it, but when it really counts, we don’t have enough at all.”
― Under the Whispering Door
― Under the Whispering Door
“I am but paper. Brittle and thin. I am held up to the sun, and it shines right through me. I get written on, and I can never be used again. These scratches are a history. They’re a story. They tell things for others to read, but they only see the words, and not what the words are written upon. I am but paper, and though there are many like me, none are exactly the same. I am parched parchment. I have lines. I have holes. Get me wet, and I melt. Light me on fire, and I burn. Take me in hardened hands, and I crumple. I tear. I am but paper. Brittle and thin.”
― The House in the Cerulean Sea
― The House in the Cerulean Sea
“We should always make time for the things we like. If we don't, we might forget how to be happy.”
― The House in the Cerulean Sea
― The House in the Cerulean Sea
“And the spiders?"
"Still there."
"But?"
"But I can have spiders in my head as long as I don't let them consume me.”
― The House in the Cerulean Sea
"Still there."
"But?"
"But I can have spiders in my head as long as I don't let them consume me.”
― The House in the Cerulean Sea
“We're here, there, not here, not there, swirling like specks of dust, claiming for ourselves the rights of the universe. Being important, being nothing, being caught in lives of our own making that we never wanted. Breaking out, trying again, wondering why the past comes with us, wondering how to talk about the past at all.”
― Lighthousekeeping
― Lighthousekeeping
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